


a romantic of the worst kind

by emorion



Series: eternally yours [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Fluff, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emorion/pseuds/emorion
Summary: "You are remarkable, you know that? Your mind deserves to be painted by the likes of Michelangelo, Monet, Dali.""Yours is the only hand I would allow that honor." He replies without thinking.Nicky knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that it was both the right and wrong thing to say.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: eternally yours [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850956
Comments: 19
Kudos: 583





	a romantic of the worst kind

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably not that good, and not beta'ed, I just had to write a post-Merrick battle scene, so. Enjoy.

Showers. Showers with indoor plumbing and steaming hot water. This is the answer that Nicky would give if asked to present his favorite invention throughout the millennium. 

In his first life, there were bath houses. Rivers, ponds, lakes. Sitting pools of water, sometimes cool, sometimes warm. 

Of course, technology improved throughout Nicolo's many lives. 

He's never been more grateful for human ingenuity than he is right now, standing beneath the searing hot spray of the hotel shower, washing bits of his own brain matter from his hair. 

The shower can't, however, wash away the memories of pain and betrayal he has experienced in the past couple days. The steady stream of water won't change the fact that once he leaves it, it will be to discuss the price of Booker's betrayal. And no water is hot enough to melt away the anxiety that comes with the sudden mortality of their trusted boss. 

He feels familiar arms wrap around him and warm breath on his shoulder before a kiss is pressed to the spot. Nicky's own hands move like magnets to the darker ones at his naval. 

"You took- so, so long to come back to me, Nicolo."  
Nicky ducks his head under the spray before leaning it back to rest on Joe's.  
"Major injuries take longer to come back from." Nicolo reminds him.  
"Yeah, yeah." Joe mumbles, lips still pressed to Nicky' s shoulder as he tightens his hold on his beloved. "Doesn't mean I don't panic."

Turning in Joe's arms to face him fully, Nicky drapes his arms over the other man's shoulders and stares into his endlessly deep brown eyes. 

Those eyes have called Nicky like a beacon since the first time he met them. They were the first thing he searched for every time he regained consciousness, the only thing that could fully restore his life. Nicky was absolutely lost without them. 

But since Joe is known to be the more romantic of the two, Nicky feels the need to stick to his familiar role. 

"Don't worry, amore, I've told you before," he says, dropping a kiss to Joe's nose. "There is no way I'm dying before you."

Joe snorts predictably, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. Nicky takes the opportunity to nuzzle into the fuzzy skin. 

"Always with the jokes, Nicky." Joe sighs, rubbing the back of Nicolo's head before cupping his neck. He then brings his forehead level with Nicky's. "I see through them, you know?"

Now it's Nicky's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course, my love. You know me better than anyone."

"The best." Joe smiles before kissing Nicky on the cheek. "My Nicolo, so sweet, so soft."

"No, no, you are confusing me for someone- hairier." Nicky answers, digging his fingers in his loves hair. 

"My lover, who doth mock me for being an 'incurable romantic'," Joe mumbles, moving to suck at Nicky's neck. "It is you, my sweet."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nicky sighs. 

"It is you, Nicolo, that brings it out of me. It's always been you." Joe lifts his head to once again meet Nicky's eyes. "You are my everything."

"Yusuf-" Nicky is cut off by the hard press of Joe's lips on his own. Joe is once again holding Nicky's nape tight as his tounge explores the roof of Nicky's mouth. It takes him a minute to realize that Joe is looking for a wound. He pulls away gasping. "Yusuf I'm fine!"

"I don't know what I would have done, Nicolo." Joe has a wild, frantic look in his eyes. "I don't know what I'll do!"

Nicky knows he's thinking about Andy, the new and unwelcome knowledge that she could die at anytime now. He's thinking about how it could have happened today. It could have happened to Nicky, or even Joe himself, and it would have been because of Booker's selfishness. 

Nicky takes his lovers head in his hands and once again brings their foreheads together. "We will figure it out, love." He whispers against Joe's lips. "I'm here. You didn't lose me today. Or Andy."

"Just Booker." Joe says, venom lacing the words. "He's dead to me."

"You don't mean that." 

"He served us up as lab rats. He could have killed Andy. He would have left Nile all alone." Joe is counting each offense on his fingers. "We were as good as family to him and he was willing to sacrifice us all just so he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. That level of selfishness, Nicolo!"

"I know, Joe."

"He doesn't deserve forgiveness! Not ever!"

Nicky pulls Joe into a kiss now, the one he knows will salve the pain he is feeling, it always does. It doesn't last forever, but it relieves him nonetheless. 

"This is happening, Nicky." Joe sighs as the kiss ends. He grabs the hotel supplied shampoo and squirts some into his palm. 

"I already -" but Joe puts his soapy hands in Nicky's hair anyway, scrubs and massages as if the blood and brains haven't already swirled down the drain. 

"Booker made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. I know you. I know you and your giant, beautiful, bleeding heart. You have already forgiven him, haven't you?" 

Nicky sighs, utterly exhausted in more ways than just physical. "He's right, Joe. We have always had each other."

"He had us, too. And we weren't enough." Joe growls, though Nicky knows it's not directed toward him. "He wasn't just ending his suffering. He wanted to inflict it on us, too." 

Nicky, hair clean twice over, closes his eyes and rests his head on Joe's shoulder. He shudders as he notices that the once scolding hot water has gone freezing cold. 

"I'm sorry, I used up all the hot water." 

"Its no problem, you are my warmth." Joe tells him, raking his back affectionately. Nicky can't help but snort, the memory of Joe's speech in the van replaying in his mind. He really was incurable. 

Nicky leaves Joe in the shower to quickly wash himself. The water shuts of as he's pulling a shirt over his head. A minute later, Joe comes out to find Nicky combing his hair. The sight seems to startle him for a moment, as the man freezes before moving to sit behind his love. 

After first scanning the back of his head, Joe finds Nicky's eyes in the mirror. Nicky offers him a small smile, which Joe returns, however it does not reach his eyes. 

"I broke that man's neck for the anguish he caused us." He says. "How dare he? Your beautiful mind, sprayed across the room like some terrible modern painting."

"Ha!" Nicky slips up, guffawing inappropriately, even to his standards. But when he looks up to apologize, Joe doesn't seem mad. He clarifys anyway. "To be clear, I'm laughing at the Polluck joke."

Joe smiles and slides his hand through Nicky's hair. "You are remarkable, you know that? Your mind deserves to be painted by the likes of Michelangelo, Monet, Dali." 

"Yours is the only hand I would allow that honor." He replies without thinking. 

He knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that it was both the right and wrong thing to say. Right, because Joe looks happy for the first time since learning about Booker, and wrong because-

"See! I told you!" Joe squeals, tackling Nicky from behind. "You are a romantic!"

"No, No!" He laughs as Joe's hands slip under his arms. "Stop, Joe!"

"I might be incurable, but you are a romantic of the worst kind!" Joe growls, rolling his naked body to the floor pulling Nicky on top of him.

Breathless, Nicky looks down at Joe, his beautiful curls against the dingy carpet. "And what type am I, then?"

Joe raises up to kiss him, the slow and passionate kind that tells Nicky he's done something right. When Joe pulls back, his eyes are dancing with glee. 

"The kind that keeps all their beautiful poetry and hopeful ideals to themselves." 

Nicky smiles, overwhelmed, still after all these lifetimes, by the love of the man beneath him. He lowers himself to meet Joe's lips in a slow, dirty kiss. The type of kiss that makes him wish he hadn't got dressed so fast. 

He doesn't have time to dwell on it, because seconds later there is knocking on the hotel door. 

"Nicky, Joe!" It's Andy, but Nicky had guessed that from the sharp raps. "Nile and I are walking to the pub, you guys coming?"

"Not yet." Joe smiles at Nicky, who rolls his eyes at the crude innuendo. 

"Ugh. Ok just, hurry, please!" Andy answers. She sounds more tired than Nicky could ever remember her being. He supposes mortality will do that. "I need this to be over."

Joe is standing up and pulling on his pants as he calls, "Don't worry Andy, we can finish this later." 

Nicky returns his cheeky grin with a incredulous scowl, but accepts the chaste kiss to his lips anyways. 

He waits by the door while Joe ties his shoes. When Nicky helps Joe into his jacket, the curly haired man rubs their noses together. 

_"Grazie, amore."_ He whispers.

They walk, hands in pockets but shoulders touching, until they reach the pub that their family agreed on a couple blocks from the hotel. 

Nicky doesn't realize until he sees Booker leaning on the wall outside that he had stopped thinking about the betrayal.

The thought brings a smile to his lips and a small giggle he can't stifle. Joe looks at him in amused exasperation. "What is it, Nicky?"

"Nothing." He responds, shaking his head. 

Joe nods, as if he expected the answer, and moves to enter the pub. Before he can, Nicky tugs on his shirt. 

"You are the shower of my soul." He says, serious as a plague. 

Joe stares at him in badly concealed awe for a moment, before motioning for him to elaborate. 

"Erm... You." He starts, suddenly unsure about voicing this out loud. But as he looks up into the eyes of his most beloved, his personal northern stars, he is encouraged to persevere. 

"You cleanse my mind of painful thoughts. You wash away the anxiety and uncertainty that burdens my soul. You do for my soul what only a hot shower does for a body. You are the shower for my soul."

Joe is quiet for a long time, looking at Nicky still. Suddenly, he brings his hand to Nicky's cheek, thumb rubbing gentle circle below his eye. Then, he pulls Nicky into a kiss, soft and appreciative.

When they pull apart, Nicky is just as breathless as he was the first time Joe kissed him like that. 

"My Nicolo," Joe whispers against his lips. "The not-so-secret romantic."


End file.
